Power Play
by Labrynth
Summary: It started off innocent enough...


Disclaimer: Not my characters. LOL This spawn of wrongess came about on another blog Oh yeah, and, I think I just blew my secret identity with this. *G*

**Power Play**

Staring at the drink in her hand, she scowled. Why the hell did people drink anyway? It tasted like hell and she didn't feel any different. As usual, she didn't feel much of anything, expect perhaps some nausea.

Thinking about it, she decided she was wrong. She did feel something. She was still pissed. Entirely livid at the company who expected her to do a very specific job but wouldn't leave her alone long enough to do it. The more she dealt with people the more she wished for a private lab where she had total control of who came and went. Such a thing would make her life so much more enjoyable. And provide her with much more time to do what she wanted to do. No reports to file, no suit breathing down her neck for a result that may or may not happen. No having to run experiments on things she just didn't give a damn about. Perhaps it was time to cut her losses.

When the man slid up on a stool beside her she was prepared to tell him to piss off. For some reason men, seeing a woman alone at a bar, always seemed to think they would be dying to have some attention. His voice, however, made her groan and nearly drop her head to the bar. They sent someone after her?

Yamata spun, glaring at him, ignoring the faint look of surprise on his face. "If they sent you after me then you can tell them to go to Hell," she hissed at him. "I'll be back when I'm damn good and ready." Silently she cursed the bar's policy on weapons. She felt seriously under armed with the small number currently on her person.

The man looked at her glass, at the bottle of Patron that was more than half empty in front of her, and gave a hint of a smile.

"How much of that have you had?" he asked, voice a low rumble.

"All of it," she growled. "But I don't feel a damn thing." She slid off the stool, hoping to get away from anything even remotely related to Umbrella at this point. Her heeled feet hit the sticky floor and she swayed, head swimming from the booze. When had that happened?

He sighed. Somehow this was going to turn into something he didn't want to do. Sure enough when she dug keys out of her pocket he pulled them out of her hand. "Let me drive you home."

"No." Hand went to the bar to steady herself and she frowned. Standing seemed to be a small problem at the moment. "I got it."

Smirk on his face he shook his head. He hadn't known her for all that long but technically she was a teammate and you were supposed to watch out for them whether you liked them or not. Besides, the company considered her important. Irreplaceable even.

"No, you really don't." When she tried to grab the keys back he held them out of her reach. For a moment he thought she might slug him but when she swayed on her feet she seemed to think twice.

A few unsteady steps towards the door and she turned to look at him. "Fine."

HUNK reached out a hand to steady her and shook his head. Nothing like gratitude for you.

They made the trip mostly in silence. The only interruption to it was her insisting this was unnecessary. He begged to differ. Her cheeks were now flushed and her eyes held that glassy look. Unable to help it, he was amused. No one would ever believe the very straight laced scientist would do such a thing. Then again this obviously wasn't a regular occurrence with her.

"Have you ever been drunk before?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"No. And I'm not drunk now. But I don't understand why people do this. It didn't make me feel any different."

Curiosity killed the cat. "Why did you want to feel different?"

Waving a hand in the air, her annoyance was obvious. "They expect me to do a job but they won't leave me alone long enough to do it. Constant interruptions. Constant meetings and reports. How the hell is someone supposed to get something accomplished when no one ever gives them time to do it?"

Fair enough, he supposed. "And you decided to go drinking?"

She snorted. It was completely unlady like and yet somehow endearing. "It seems to work for the lab techs."

"I see," was his amused answer.

Before either of them could say anything more she indicated a driveway leading to a townhouse on the end of a small row. He pulled into the driveway and before he could come to a stop she was trying to get out. Grabbing her arm he jerked her back and she growled at him. A quick jerk broke his hold and thankfully they had now come to a complete stop. Christine muttered something under her breath at him that he didn't quite catch but somehow he didn't think it was very flattering. _ So much for trying to help a teammate out._

She marched up the well manicured walkway, stumbling twice, before she reached the door. Impatiently she held out a hand for her keys and he handed them to her with a raised brow. Fumbling, it took her more than a couple tries to get the right key in the lock to disengage it. Much like her lab, the home appeared meticulously kept with a touch of Asian flare. It was surprisingly warm and inviting though, something he had never expected. When he followed her in she gave him a questioning look.

With a shrug he smiled. "That's your car. Either I'm stuck until you sober up or I call a cab."

Intently studying him, long enough most people would have gotten uncomfortable, she sighed. "Fine. There's a phone in the library," she waved a hand in the general direction of what he assumed was the aforementioned room, "I'm going to bed."

Turning on a heel she pulled the red turtleneck over her head and tossed it aside. The grey pants she wore rode low on her hips and the sleek line of her back caught his attention. The knife held in the small of her back made him grin. In that way only women had, she reached behind her and unclasped the black bra with a single hand. If nothing else piqued his interest that sure as hell did. Blood rushed to his groin fast enough it was painful.

Black heels were simply stepped out of and left on the hardwood floor. Small hands worked at the front of her pants until they were also on the floor in a heap. The black lace thong was not what he expected but it sure as hell didn't hurt.

He was at her side in an instant when she stumbled, slamming into the door frame with a lack of grace that wasn't typical for her. Briefly he wondered if there had been another bottle before the one he found her with. Once again she tried to jerk out of his grasp but by then he'd caught sight of her breasts.

Holy Mother of God they were perfect. Using his leverage he spun her around, shoving her against the wall roughly. At first he thought she'd fight him, instead she grunted, dark eyes looking up at him as he filled his hands with her flesh. Dark nipples peaked under his palms and it was his complete undoing. Head dropped down to her neck, the pulse beating just under her delicate skin pounding against his mouth.

Nails raked across his shoulders, down his back and for a second he thought she was fighting him. The thought he was going to have to stop made him pause but when he did her hands dug into his skin and pulled him closer.

Hands slid down her arms, grasping her fingers with his own he pressed against her, pinning her arms above her head. She bucked against him to no avail and his eyes met hers. They studied each other a moment, each of them trying to decide the best way to obtain the upper hand.

Yamata tried pulling her hands free but he held tight. The calculating look she shot him came across as a challenge and he accepted. Light head dipped down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. The whimper she gave sounded like it had been torn roughly from her throat. In response he gave a ragged moan.

His need to have hands all over her body was enough to release her own. Large calloused hands skimmed her darker skin, sending shivers across her body. Her breath was heavy against his own flesh and a tongue ran across the edge his ear sending electricity through him.

With a shove, she forced him back and he staggered, his brain so far away from reason it took him a few steps to catch himself. Her hands were already at the button down shirt he wore, jerking it free from his jeans. Aggressively she pulled the front apart, sending buttons flying in all directions. Teeth grazed against his chest, tongue adding a kind of softness to the sharp bite. Pulling the shirt completely free of his body she dropped it to the floor. Hands dove for the front of his jeans, long slender fingers wrapping around him tightly.

Her name was a warning from his lips that she didn't heed. Instead those fingers teased him, nails grazing the underside of his swollen cock then circling the head. The self satisfied smirk on her face made him lose all reason and he forced her back into the wall again, his own hands slipping under the scrap of fabric she'd been wearing. Fingers shoved into her roughly finding her more than wet. He was rewarded with a soft moan that was all female. Working her until she was too distracted to continue teasing him he watched the cool mask slip away to show the passion underneath.

Before he could finish her there she turned, forcing his hand away. Bringing his index finger to his mouth, he sucked it in, savoring the taste.

"Who knew you could be sweet?"

Jeans at his feet in a matter of a few heartbeats her hand grasped him again, leading him closer. "Now," she demanded.

Now there was a command he was happy to follow. Grasping her hips in his hands he held her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He could feel her against him and he reached down to pull the lace aside, plunging into her furiously, punishing her with his body.

She rode him, strong legs pulling him to her when he dared pulling out too far, savagely bringing their bodies together. Sensation rose in her and she breathed into his ear, "Harder."

Resisting the urge to follow her orders for his own pleasure he slowed down. Her response was a feral sound, her brown eyes full of anger. "No," he responded. Arms wrapped around her and he turned them around, moving to the room she'd indicated earlier.

Falling onto the leather sofa there he drove into her deeply and she cried out, legs trying to keep him in place. But he was stronger and broke her hold only to roll her over and strip off her panties with no regard to what condition they ended up in. He gathered her up and bent her over the arm before driving himself into her again. Over and over until they were both panting.

Clawing at the leather she was almost there when he stopped again. The name she called him wasn't nice and he laughed. Falling back, he pulled her down with him, letting her collapse on top of him. Arousal was apparently stronger than alcohol because she caught herself easily. Shifting until she straddled him, Christine lowered herself onto him, taking every inch he offered greedily. When she was fully seated she began to move.

His hands moved to her breasts again, tweaking the nipples, enjoying the way they peaked under his fingers. A soft moan was her response when he pinched them. One hand continued, the other dropped lower. Using her own motion, the finger grazed sensitive and swollen flesh every time she shifted her hips. It didn't take long before she was quivering around him.

She rode her release with a primal sound, her body shuddering with the force of it. Using her hips as leverage once again he ground her into him, changing her motion as it suited him until he couldn't hold back any longer.

Limply she collapsed onto him and he brushed black hair from her face. Well this certainly wasn't how he intended to spend the night, but he could think of worse things. Assuming she didn't try to kill him anyway.

It took a few minutes before she stirred. When she did she looked at him, sharp words obviously on her tongue. With a hand to the back of her neck he jerked her down until they were nearly nose to nose. "I'm not done with you yet. That was just round one."

When she made a mad dash for the bedroom he followed, stalking her with a great deal of relish. Clearing the doorway, he barely had time to register the king sized bed covered in deep blue silk sheets before she was there, forcing him down to the mattress. Hands caressed her waist. Strong fingers encircled his wrist seconds before the silver locked on. Before he could register it, the handcuff was on and she had it attached to something he couldn't see well given his current position. With a jerk he tested the strength to find it held easily. Her name was a menacing rumble.

The predatory smile she gave in response made the blood shoot straight for his center.

"Ready for round two then?"

…

Dark eyes slowly opened and she groaned. Her head was killing her and she thought it might just split open and let out whatever troll was currently pounding away in there. The light bit deep and she pulled the blanket up over her eyes. It was them she realized there was someone else there. Lightning fast reflexes had the 9mm at his head as quickly as the one he held to hers.

Ever so slowly the night before bled into her brain and she groaned. What the hell had they been thinking? Judging by the look on his face he was wondering the same thing.

Through gritted teeth she said, "This _never_ gets mentioned again. _**Ever**_." Neither weapon wavered. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," he allowed as he pulled the gun back.

Stashing the steel back under her pillow she closed her eyes again. "Good. Now get out."


End file.
